


May Day

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Prompt Fics [67]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nick Stokes Whump, No actual idea where this is going so, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Appearances can be deceiving, perceptions are betrayed, relationships are tested as Nick and Greg walk themselves into a surrealistic nightmare.
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Series: Prompt Fics [67]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540795
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	May Day

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by an anon who asked for the prompt "What I’m about to do is totally crazy, but just roll with it.”
> 
> Inspired by my own tags on a cap on tumblr, and by a whump prompt about a caretaker playing a game against the whumper for the whumpee. To be continued when I actually decide what they’re going to “play."

It was an odd setting to be in, Greg wonders if they had somehow walked into the Twilight Zone rather into an abandoned warehouse stranded on the outskirts of an industrial park. The decrepit rusted slats on the outside had masked the over-lit clinical pristine of the inside, the walls as white as the bleach it reeked of. The fumes were so strong that he and Nick had been distracted long enough as they approached a lattice wall for another one to slam down behind them, and they realized that they were no longer locked _out_ of the suspect’s abode, but locked _in._

 _“State your names and intentions,”_ a cold feminine voice warbles through a loud speaker. Greg spots a large speaker in the top corner at the end of the seemingly endless hallway, and a camera in the other. He can feel the fumes radiate off of Nick as he comes to the same observation.

“Well, before we make any official introductions, I’ll tell ya that we’re from the Las Vegas Crime Lab and we’d appreciate it if we could talk face to face, we have a few questions for you, starting with _why the hell did you just lock us in here?”_

 _“Oh Nicholas, that temper will not be necessary,”_ a cold chuckle from the speaker makes Greg realize just how chilling the air is.

He sends a side glance to Nick, his jaw clenched though he can’t hide the slightest quiver in his voice.

“How do you know my name?” he growls, staring into the center of the camera lens. 

_“Did you really think I would forget, my sweet Nicky?”_

The tension in Nick’s body releases into helplessness, he cups a hand over his mouth, his eyebrows curve up in concerning recognition. 

Just by association, Greg recognizes the voice, too. 

Nick is about to open his trembling lips, most likely say something that would just give the woman the rise she takes the upmost pleasure in getting out of him, when Greg nudges his shoulder, his face tight with determination.

“What I’m about to do is totally crazy, but just roll with it,” Greg whispers, before he calls out into the white void in front of them. “Hey, uh, I-I’m sure you remember me, right? Greg?” 

_“Of course, Greg. We never did finish our game of darts…”_ Greg puts an arm over Nick’s chest before he lunges towards the gate.

“You’re right. We never did, and I’ve love to play that game with you again, if you’d let me.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. And even better, I’ll play you…for Nick,” the words are bitter, physically pain him to say, to refer to Nick as if he were some object to be won rather than the _human_ he loves, but based on what he’s heard and experienced of Veronica, he knows that if they even stand a chance of surviving this, he’d have to stoop to her level, if only for a chance to get out of this cage. 

“Greg, what the–” Nick hisses.

The gate rises open, and Veronica’s voice rises with it to the familiar childish glee.

“Go through, Greg. Meet me at the end of the hall. You stay put while the adults have a chat, Nicky!” 

“Oh, like hell I will–” Nick starts, reaching out to put a hand on Greg’s shoulder as he leaves the confined space, but he’s distracted by the sudden release of pressurized gas from previously closed slits in the wall. 

Nick falls to the ground, even as he masks the fumes directed at his face with the crook of his elbow and Greg’s heart breaks as he watches his fingers claw at the wall when he dares to look back on his trek to the source of Veronica’s voice. He seems to shrink from view, even as Greg turns around to walk backwards, mouthing a tearful, heartfelt apology to his friend as consciousness wanes underneath a consuming cloud. 

Greg unexpectedly falls back against a wall before a hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him into a completely different room, one that resembles a study with maroon lacquered wood, walls lined with bookshelves, two armchairs resting on top of ornate carpeting. Behind a desk is an office chair occupied by a woman holding a remote in one hand, and a gun in the other. 

“Well, Greg, shall we begin?” Veronica asks with a cold stare while Nick writhes on the large monitor display behind her head.


End file.
